Sunday, July 31, 2005

...on trailer trash


well i guess since i haven't left yet, i might as well begin here. and since i will be out of town by the time the cease and desist order comes through i will omit the name of the dumpster company that couldn't be bothered to show up on time to drop off the dumpster that they said that they would pick up when we called them that they can't pick up until monday making it really difficult to load a trailer that was to come from an established rental company that shall remain nameless that has dropped the ball on a trailer that was promised for yesterday morning that they haven't been able to supply us with but they just pinned one down for us to go pickup in poughkeepsie. EFFING POUGHKEEPSIE!!!. that's 5 hours drive from our humble gotham. the nice lady said to them when they called to "hold it, we're on our way". which we aren't and someone in poughkeepsie is holding a trailer that isn't going to be picked up. free advice for the day, sometimes it's better to use local businesses. more to come

—the bastard

i couldn't resist


not to be confused with me. but i think the sun can use whatever phraseology they want considerring what these bastards have done. besides, you gotta love the sun for their headlines

—the bastard

Saturday, July 30, 2005

For mama Ruth

Good luck to the illustrious mom in law, may she bring in the sheeves on a daily basis out west in Arizonia!

mofo

...on lenin and road trips


so, we're going on a road trip, we're going on a road trip. starting monday, the nice lady and the lowe and i are cramming into the scout and taking the mother in law's stuff to tucson. this has been a long time coming becaus ethe mom in law has wanted to leave our fair city for quite some time. we'll be taking the scout which for those of you not in the know, is a big ass truck from the 70's that the lowe has an affinity for. we should be there in the span of three days and the game plane is to take pictures and document the trip. if i can't do this, i will take notes and document the trip when i get home (i'm being sent off in a plane with the boy after we reach arizona, it's a long story that involves my temper, 3 days in northern ireland and a bum knee but i will explain later). i might however, do the short version over time and then publish the war and peace version later for you folksa that like to read more. erikmikal sez the blog reads like war and peace so i am mulling over the length of my scrawl (how ya like that suckfish!!).

anyway on to the lenin part. the nice lady picked up some communist pins for a mujahadim hat i used to wear in the 90's that has since vanished. i liked it and it prompted conversation with 2 afghani guys i used to work with because one of them fled to pakistan when the soviets left and the other one fled when the communists came. anyway, i figured i would pin ol vladimir lenin onto my hat for company not because i am a communist. actually i'm not. i thought marx was wrong and that socialism would never work in practice because people are inherently ambitious and could never live equally as marx and engels though of it. either way, i like the art from the era. i try to employ the poster art style into a feature every now and again because of my affinity for communist poster art. besides i find it ironic that a capitalist like myself is going across the country with the father of communist russia strapped to his head. cheers, and i 'll try to keep you posted. dosvidanya, tovarisch.

—the bastard

...And I'm Back

I'm aware that I have been quiet the last week or so, but it's been rough dragging myself from the couch to the computer during the week of hell. I've been working on some houses all within the same general area for the same general contractor. Each house has it's own particular quirk that has made my life more difficult, and most of it stems from the inability of said G.C. to get his shjit together. I've also lost my partner in pro-style Josh Da Kid, who has decided he's had enough of this purgatory and is moving on up to hell, New Jersey. Da Kid also happens to be my best and basically only friend down here,(he's originally from New England so we've always seen eye to eye on most things except that he prefers Natural Light to most any beer, until I steered him to the wonders of Yuengling), so I got that going on. The new helper isn't much of a help just yet, so I got that going on. Forget it, it's over and done with, it's Saturday and I'm grilling chicken, and tomorrow I'm hitting Sanibel Island for some all day decompression on the beach thanks to Susan, who works as night manager at an inn out there-sweet set up. She's hoioking up slow-cooked short ribs tomorrow, fan-fuckin-tastic!

Just a few notes to get back on track here. I realize the north has been hit with some heat lately, but I choose to sympathize with you all rather than call you pussies. And as for the Bastard (A.K.A. They killed Kenny-you bastard!!), I would never look down upon him for skipping the walk to the subway, it's a hike, and I know how he sweats, cause I leak like that too. However, the bastard (A.K.A. The O.B., Original Bastard) takes sweating to another level, probably because of his love of liquids. He is also know as "the sponge" and "king of all beverage". So, he gets a pass when he has to take four extra shirts with him to make it through a day without looking like he didn't swim to work.

But what I really wanted to discuss is that I've taken another stab at quiting smoking. I believe the last time I gave it a whirl I was still with Melissa. We both decided to stop and both went three days before seperately grubbing a cigarette. That night, after admitting our transgression to each other, we decided to share a pack, this way niether one of us would smoke as much, and we could cut down and eventually go cold turkey for good. The rest is history, we had a drink last Christmas when were both in NYC, (she's in the Ooh La La La currently)and we both lit up almost relieved that the other was still smoking. So, I'm making another run. I haven't spent a day without one yet, but I haven't smoked more than six in a day, which is down from a pack a day. I know what you're going to say, that doesn't work, well, I'm not some run of the mill smoker. You see I love to smoke, I've been smoking before Joe Camel (phallis symbol and all) even existed. There was no such thing as Camel cash, and I was never into the cowboy thing so the Marlboro man. Point is, I don't blame cigarette companies for my habit like so many others have. I blame one simple an undenialble fact:smoking is cool. Yes, its cool as fuck and not one single solitary soul out there can tell me different. I had a friend Rik, who I worked with at the record store in Long Island years ago who said that he could not imagine me in any other way then seeing me walk across the parking lot with a cup of coffe in my hand a scarf around my neck and a cigarette in the other. He would go on by saying that he would see that image and know all was right in the world at that moment. Some people were born to smoke, it looks natural, and I'll tell you that for m it feels natural, always has, always will. I've smoke through a battle with luekemia and fell off the wagon after an aortic disection and I'm still standing-with a cigarette in my hand. Some people can just quit, and that's the way it is but it is my belief that those people took up smoking not because they enjoy it but because they thought it would make them cool. And if you don't enjoy sometyhing its easy to give it up. For me I love every little bit of the ritual, and its difficult to give up anything that you love. But I'm cutting down right now, with the hopes that I can eventually end the affair. How I'm going about it isn't any different that getting the nicotine patch or chewing nicotine gum except I'm still breathing in smoke, but I've always considered the nicotine more dangerous than the smoke itself. Baby steps, my people, baby steps. I'll keep you posted.

the mother lover chinese dentist

Friday, July 29, 2005

...and then there was four

the fourth bomber was apprehended. he was in rome. this is going to be a helluva trial kids.

—bastard

three down

british police caught two more. and then there was one. keep running, jerk, you'll get yours too.

—the bastard

Thursday, July 28, 2005

china seeks to soften image to the u.s.

i came across this on the AP wire

China seeks soften image with U.S.

Jul. 28, 2005 at 9:38AM

China has embarked on an image-polishing campaign to counter U.S. criticism of its growing economic and military power.
Taking advantage of the visit of a senior official to Washington, China is making its case in public for a strategic relationship and is hiring a U.S. lobbying firm to communicate with Congress, the Financial Times said Thursday.
Tang Jiaxuan, state councilor, assured the U.S.-China Business Council, "All this will mean boundless opportunities for U.S. businesses."
China, he said, would "gradually" address U.S. concerns over the trade deficit and intellectual property rights and allow it greater access to services.
Tang reiterated Chinese demands that the United States give China full market economy status, lift restrictions on commodity and technology exports "and correct the wrong practices of trade protectionism."
Tang, a key figure in Chinese efforts to curb North Korea's nuclear ambitions, also met with U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice.


now i was thinking, that maybe china should try stopping all of those human rights violations and that jack booted communism stuff as a way of softening their image. but then again what the hell do i know about geopolitics. ida know, maybe make little hello kitty dolls dressed like chairman mao. yeah i know hello kitty is japanese but the chinese don't really care too much for intellectual property anyway

—the bastard

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

truth in advertising


i saw this on gawker before tipping out of work for the evening and i found it both sad that that poor man got shot in the head by british police but on th same token, i am curious as to why this man would run from the cops. it's not like there is a brazilian abuse problem over there. ida know. mebbe, he got scared because so many were so suspicious of his puffy clothes and the fact that he was running from the police.

secondly, it really sucks that the british police won't back down from this tactic but on the same token, if they plowed 5 rounds int the head of the guy they caught today then maybe, the terrorists would be a little bit more scared. and maybe, just maybe, they are the ones who need to be afraid

—bastard

crispy the redeemer


as some of you might have read in earlier posts. one day on the way back from lunch, jesus told me that i needed fresh breath. well this afternoon, the co-worker who we will now call "scoop" has also received a calling from above...to snack. yes, the manhattan christian assmembly is passing out flyers with a rice crispy treat attached. perhaps the maker is encouraging scoop to have a snack or perhaps is saying, "here you go, live a little". either way those manhattan christian assembly folks know how to pass out a flyer. allthough i did notice that it was a rainbow treat. maybe, god is ready for gay marriage. who knows?

—the bastard

...one down



okay ladies and germs. scotland yard has caught one of those bastards (not be be confused with me of course). from the financial times

Yasin Hassan Omar, one of the men suspected of trying to detonate bombs on London's transport network, was arrested on Wednesday following Britain's biggest manhunt. The arrest of the 24-year-old Somali is potentially the most significant breakthrough in the investigation into last Thursday's botched bomb attacks.

one down...thre to go. clocks ticking you bastards

running the gauntlet 3


warrior needs air conditioning badly.

this mornings report from staging area queens has a large cadre of people with luggage getting on at continental avenue with no searchy searchy table. way to go, 112th precinct! i'm sure when the cop of the month luncheon hits later this month, my block will be more secure.

as a follow up item, on the platform was a mysterious black bag on the platform. i kicked it to find that it was someone's dirty laundry or perhaps some really lightweight explosives. but i'm going to go with dirty laundry. way to keep it safe transit workers! i know it's hot out and all but, you guys have guaranteed job security and better medical ya frikkin union thugs!

—bastard

have you seen your mother baby...

...standing in the shadows.


i was on a bus to the train this morning because it's just too damn hot to walk to the station. now my friendly foe from florida (it's called alliteration, it's a literary device) would call bull on the heat up here because, let's face it, hell has nothing on florida in the heat department. anyway, i was on the bus and this girl gets on wearing those bug eye glasses that he kids are rocking these days. and i had to take issue. i understand that there is a great love for audrey hepburn in this world, hell i tried to throw a cocktail party based on the party scene in "breakfast at tiffanys" (which worked out better than the time i wanted my apt to look like warhol's factory from the party scene in "i shot andy warhol", too much weird light in the living room). anyway, she was rocking these sunglasses but dressed in her sweats. now the glasses in question are those big wraparounds that made brian jones look like a drag queen in the 60's (is it the snakes again brian) and have the armani eagle all over it like she was some kind of super heroine defending truth, justice, and the right to dress like a homeless person with glamorous sunglasses. either way, i just thought she was doing the sunglass wearing public a disservice. i gotta find better way of passing the time on a bus.

—bastard

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

..on vampire killing


this was too good to pass on. hey kids, wanna kill a vampire? well here's your starter kit

running the gauntlet 2


came into the subway through a different entrance just to see and i found that yesterday's check point wasn't there this morning. i guess they discovered that the biggest bags were carried by dangerous career people. i sure feel safer. on a side note, you never know how much AC on a train matters until it goes out, mid trip. ewwwwwww.

—bastard

Monday, July 25, 2005

...on lance armstrong

well there you have it. lance takes his 7th and final tour de france. i watched some of it. it had it's moments. the funny thing i came across was a post story in which kerry feels that lance has a future as a politician. before the tour i had read a sports illustrated piece in which lance feels he has a future as sheryl crowe's guitar tech. sorry kerry, i think that you're just not his type

...on the searchers

now i know someone else is going to make this joke. and it will be done a dozen times until it grows old but, do you suppose the police will be randomly searching the C.H.U.D.s as well?

—bastard

running the gauntlet


well i stand corrected. this morning, we had ourselves a bona fide check point. i was all a twitter with excitement, i mean sweat. it's frickin humid out, okay. i figured that would bode badly for me since our fair commisioner ray kelly said to watch out for people who are sweating. i thought the jig was up for me, i was caught.

so as opposed to the lines i heard about in times square we were 4 people deep and lo and behold, officer johnny on the spot saw the old lady and her big ass blue tote bag. you know that sort of old lady. the one with the gray hair and the mean look in her eye. yeah, that one. well ooficer spot grabbed her oversized tote and started digging a,d lucky me, sweaty sweaterson skates past the watchers.

quick note to the police. i know that procedure mired in political correctness keeps you from doing your job properly but,
the old lady doesn't have a bomb in her bag. nor do i, just a chip on my shoulder

—bastard

Saturday, July 23, 2005

vegas in the NEW village


got these of of curbed. as some may know, CBGB's lease will be up this year and the local residents of the bowery want hilly kristal to pack up his stuff an dgo. this will be another symptom of a growing culture shortage in the lower east side. hilly had mentioned going to vegas and while it would be a shame, a really big shame, he's entitled. it isn't his fault that a bunch of wealthy trust fund sorts decided to build their families lives there. it's not hilly's fault that yuppies want to single handedly murder the birthplace of punk. i'll tell you this. new york has become a city of consumers not makers of things. way things are going, we will never have anyone like basquiat here anymore. no one likle warhol. no one like the ramones, the talking heads, the nyhc scene. no innovators, just pilates doing consumers with double wide strollers and marketing people. it's a shame.



but fear not, they are rebuilding the village, in beautiful, sunny, las vegas.


one summer i took my cousin from cali down to the village and she remarked at how dirty is was. the nice lady mentioned that it was the "hip" part of town. she responded that it was the "dirty part of town". now, it won't be that way , in vegas. no one will even have to put up with the cattle sized roaches. oh well.

—the bastard

Friday, July 22, 2005

i was going to post this as a comment....

but it ran too long

you know, it's a funny thing, i'll rebut at length later about bag searches and how your point has little to do with my point. your diatribe on the patriot act is a topic unto itself and i get to you about it in time, shiteyes.

with regards to that day, the day everything changed here. the day a perfectly blue sky had turned black and the fucking air turned into noxious jet fuel. i had to close my windows that night because it clogged up all the way down metropolitan avenue and it smelled like airplaner gas and burning skin. mofo knows this smell but, have you ever accidentally burn yourself lighting a campfire or pilot light. that's what it smelled like. and it burned for weeks. jimmy3000 had to be carried out of work (we worked on long island at the time ao all we could do was watch and get stuck in traffic trying to get home to our loved ones) that day. his wife was working in the courthouse across the way that day, she made it and 3000 now has a little 3000 running around the house. my friend, the drummer was strapped to the top of a fire truck for 3 months just operating a hose to put this out. i didn't even go to see the wreckage until december and it was STILL ON FIRE. when texas came to visit last summer they wanted to see the hole where all those people died one of them was my wife's cousin's husband. you see her cousin doesn't have a husband anymore. their daughter doesn't have a daddy anymore. you know what hey found? his foot. how the hell do you bury a foot? he was a good man, he deserved better. they all did. anyway, i brought texas to see it and told in tour guide mode i told them that "this here is ground zero, the last time i saw it, it was on fire...in december". i don't know if it registerred on them. maybe. they're good people.

anyway to the funny part, not that it's funny, more like sad. i was listening to something from rem (bad day) on the way home today and its a good song, i've come to a place where i enjoy the music of descenters just not their opinions. kind of like the french, love the food, hate the politics. but stipe's bush bashing about being jerked around by the president got me to thinking. i know he's talking about how he feels the administration is tearing into what he believes and engaging in things he doesn't believe in and he's entitled. even the mofo is entitled to his opinion, that's what makes this country so great. but for a brief moment, i wonderred about how we as new yorkers and american came together that day and how quickly we all balkanized after that. i also wonderred if mr stipe would feel the way he feels if those planes crashed into something he loved in athens, georgia and destroyed something he loved, in the city he grew up in, killing somone he loved. i don't know i'm not a rock star.

i don't want to argue over this point later on down the line, i just wanted to get this out while is was still sitting in my gut, eating at me. but i advise all of you out of towners to look at the situation as if your city was hit. that's why i feel for london and barcelona, because it happened here. well, now that i'm all upset from remembering all of this (it's okay, feels kind of cathartic to well up over a keyboard, maybe this is how writers feel, ida know), i think i got all off message. mo, it wasn't so much about bags being searched so much as it was about how queens has never shook off the stigma of former ed koch calling queens a series of cemetaries on the way to the hamptons. my point is the outer boroughs get ignored alot and it ticks me off.

—the bastard

PS and judge roughneck IS a kick ass name. maybe i will name the skink that.

straightening the askew...if that even makes sense

First off, it was a rough day when I came to find my souls work deleted by technology. However, I figured the Bastard (a.k.a the Bastard of Seville), would get things up and running once again. He did, it's done.

As for the lost episode, you should have been there. And the lone comment came from Jack, not Jake as the Bastard (a.k.a Big Baby Bastard) had wrote. Jack has his own blog and writes fairly often. Mostly about Strat-o-matic Baseball, but its been a while since I checked it out because I lost the address, so maybe he's broadened his horizons. Maybe Jack, (for motherfucker purposes he will be otherwise known as Judge Roughneck, the greatest screen name ever!) will be willing to post his blog address to our comments board so you can check out his filth.

Thirdly, I do install electric, however, I also pass the time as a street philosopher and Watcher (not the "What if" Watcher, more like the "The Defenders" Watcher.

Lastly, the Bastard (a.k.a Bastard Fo' Life) has requested pictures from the daily goings ons of purgatory. As they say on the islands "soon come." I work for a living. Yeah, I know what you all are thinking, "so do I", but you don't. The majority of you have jobs to attend, not necessarily work. Spend a day doing pilates on the top step of a ten-foot ladder wiring a recess can in a heat index of 110, then go back to your job, wherever it may be, and think long and hard about how you mistook your job, a series of tasks, for work. So, as far as pictures and more posts coming from my ass, I'll get to it. Until then, Taco Bell it is.

Oh, and just for the record, when law enforcement searches your private property without just cause it is a violation of the fourth amendment of the Bill of Rights. Since when does the Patriot Act (a.k.a The Orwell Act) supersede the constitution. Half the states in this Union violate the Brady Bill even though it is law. They hide behind the second ammendment (a.k.a the most misunderstood phrase ever) and sell guns at gun shows without so much as a license check and a wink of an eye. And isn't it convenient that Al Queda has shown it's face again, just in time for the renewal of that facsist piece of bureacrecy. If I was a congressman, when it was my turn to vote, I would have tucked that thing under my arm walked straight onto the speakers podium and took a giant shit on it, then using the Patroit Act to wipe my ass. You can laugh, that's fine, but I tell you this; every once and a while the subjest of 9/11 is brought up to me by people from down here. They talk about where they were when it happened and how they felt helpless and violated and how in the aftermath it swelled their hearts with patriotism. SHEEP! All of them! None of them know what it was like to be in that New York City that day. They didn't bomb the United States that day, they bombed my fucking stomping grounds. They don't know how it feels to smell the air full of death and airplane fuel permeating the entire city. Just like I don't pretend to know what it was like for a friend of mine, Freddy-NYFD, to pull body parts out of the rubble for 36 hours straight. Now they come in droves to witness the aftermath of the slaughter like its the newest tourist attraction, while I can't even walk near Church Street without feeling an emptiness in my gut. And our government uses this faux patriotism and paranoia to defame the bill of rights. Sheep, and the government is your shepard. Well, I'm the motherfucking wolf!

Maybe I should go see a pyschiatrist. Nah, psychiatrists are for crazy people, I'll just have a beer.

the mizzle fizzle fo' shizzle

...where all the po-lice at?


now i feel more secure. in response to the second round of london bombings, the nypd will start searching through people's bags...totally at random. the funny bit about that is this will breed all sorts of passive aggressive resentment among the law abiding populace when the cops search through the messenger bag of the 6 tall blond haired blue eyed catholic priest in full vestments (complete with a pointy hat and miter) on their way to st. pats, not that priests carry messenger bags (or do they) to keep the politcally correct satiated. i had read in a column after the the mass murders that happened on september 11th that opined that it was a good thing that we keep a look out for and search blonde haired blue eyed swedes on airplane flights because those blonde haired blue eyed swedes may just be ready to take the plane and crash it into a building. let's not go to our occam's razor choice on this one. you know, the 5 guys talking to each other in arabic, playing musical chairs in first class. that would be racial profiling. some crazy actor guy named james woods saw this go down on his flight from ny to la one august day in 2001. he calle dthe FBI. what a racist.


anyway, the police say that they are going to search bags. i waltz into the subway station ready to get the treatment and lo and behold. no cops. once again new york city's red headed step child that is the borough of queens is cop free. search free. with a couple of radical mosques in jackson heights and richmond hill and a man was arrested a few months back for the arms cache he had. oddly enough, he wasn't swedish. however, the nypd will be covering brooklyn and the bronx more heavily which makes sense and doesn't. at the end of the day some trust fund baby in a trucker hat and john deere sweat bands will get the body cavity search while the guy with the CAIR membership card will breeze by after phoning it in to the ACLU. ida know, ending rant now. reporting from the staging area.

—bastid

Thursday, July 21, 2005

back from the dead

the fine folks at blogger have helped me get back our one missing post. so names...and killing is back.

—the bastard

...on train travel


people get me curioser and curiouser but not in the good way. i arrive on the platform just in time to get on the connecting train and being a stocky guy i sit down between two really thin people. oddly the girl i was sitting next too was sitting legs akimbo, the way the more inconsiderate men sit on the E train in the mornings (you know sitting with your legs spread as if what you have is the size of a bowling ball). anyway, she's so small that sitting that way doesn't take up much of a footprint. i'm not even in her space. she immediately starts fussing and fidgeting as if i am going to get up and leave which i didn't. rather than get taken into this little passive aggrssive shoving match i take out my book and start reading. eventually, the fidgetting reaches a fever pitch for her and she jacks in her iPod and then plugs it back in and then says, "shit", fidgets some more and then gets off at queens plaza. all i could think was, "that girl needs to stop chewing on her nails"

—the bastard

...the office tour (or the head tour)


as i might have mentioned on one or more occasions i'm a magazine art director. i work for a hunting and fishing magazine. now i want to preface the office tour with the fact that i like it here. i like it alot. i have no interest in complaining about it or giving away company secrets or any of that grief. i just wanted to get that out of the way so i don't end up like that poor girl who got fired from another company because she complained about her company in blog form. that said, here are some heads.




now mind you these were all hunted by the same person. he has had quite a lengthy career in "the sport" and he's been to some place that have never entered my head to go to until i started working here and that's a plus for me. this one was mounted european style. apparently in old europe, they don't like big heads with eyeballs looking at them from the mantle.



big horn sheep. a lot of these things are by pure happenstance mounted in such a way that they end up staring at you all day. now i don't know about you but there is nothing creepier than having a mule deer head stare at you for 8 hours staight. it was even weirder when we had to work a double to work on a special issue. 15 hours of deer stare. ahhhhhhhhhh.



the previously mentioned mule deer


skull of a moose taken while the editor was in alaska



skull of an african cape buffalo. the list goes on and on and i won't bore you further with the details as there are several trophies. however,



this one was actually caught by the co worker. she went on a hunt with the NRA woman's auxillary. it ended up being the largest thing harvested that day (you like that term, don'tcha, we use that word alot around here). i talked her into having it mounted. now to just be annoying i'll stop in front of her desk and say, "now that is some pig". yeah it's juvenile but, it keeps things entertaining



this one was taken out by susie kansas. dangerous looking, eh? well that's all i'm putting up. there's more but this has gone on long enough. get back to work.

—the bastard

...on london


just went on drudge a minute ago and came across new bombings in london. this crap has to stop!!!! these bastards need to be taken out of the race. if there is a god, i am very thankful for him for putting lazy sacks of crap in charge of the mta here in nyc. you go underground and there is no signal. i hope the mta continues to drag its collective ass on this one because i hope we never get cell service underground. there is NO REASON for me to have to suspiciously eye someone on the train wearing a chador. it's not fair to them and it's not fair to the people of this city to have to be suspicious of anyone. at least they caught someone.

—the bastard

we have a casualty

the other day, we had an outage and the bastard works got lost for a day or two. i restored it all thanks to the good graces of the co-worker but, we lost one. the m.f. wrote a good one about some character in cape coral who shared his name and was murdered. i'm really doing this for jake, who was our only comment on that post but that piece od mf gold will be lost, the mofo explains:

"It will have to remain a lost episode, I have a lot of it written down but I'd rather it goes down as a lost episode for only the most hardcore fans to have enjoyed."

so there you have it. now we will have a moment of silence.......now get back to work jerkface!!!

—the bastard

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

...on bosses



this morning the boss, the k asked to see the bastard works and i obliged him. told him the name, "did you pick that title?". he logs on and in and says, "how come there's no picture of me? you know i only went on the sight, to see pictures of me." funny thing is, that's his way. he likes to pick, it makes the office more interesting. now i know he really didn't log on to see his own face on the web, because he's joking buuuuut, i'll put a pic of him anyway. cheers, mr. k!

—unemployed bastard

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

wow, i'm not crazy


once again the ny times proves me not crazy. but then again they did hire jayson blair and they are biased so...we'll call it a draw. anyway, apparently, the fact that i get stark raving nuts when it's humid out is pretty common. cause let me tell you, it's bloody hot out.

—hot bastid

YAY!


bastard central has been 90 percent restored. apparently the co worker had it cached on her machine, so i grabbed it and started reposting the old data. yay! i'll put the pix back online when i get home. la officina still runs os 9.

—cabeza de la bastard

...i wish, i wish...


i wish i was a fish. no i don't, fish smell nasty. except for that ahi tuna stuff one gets on a sashimi platter. that stuff is top notch...TOP NOTCH. what i really wish is that i had clicked that preference button that sends my postings to my e-mail sooner. i also wish i hadn't deleted the ones i had e-mailed to me last week thus preserving more of what was lost.

dammit!

...on being pissed


somehow or another, being a bastard works got deleted. i no doubt hit the wrong button at some point so i'm going to start from scratch. dammit!

i am currently trying to see if i can get the old posts restored somehow but i will attempt to restore some of them as well. if notm i still have the pictures to prove but i think i will try like hell to get the chewkarist post back because it's hard to remember all of that crap. so there you have it. what are you complaining about? i can't remember how weird i felt when i started this blog so i couldn't possibly duplicate my "med" posts. i am so pissed. hopefully, the mofo can provide some of his own postings as well but we'll see.
dammit!

—the bastard

Friday, July 15, 2005

...on being anathema

Anathema (Greek Word: meaning 1. to be formally set apart, 2. banished, exiled, excommunicated or 4. denounced, often misinterpreted to mean accursed). There is great dificulty with this word especially since it has now become commonly associated with the term accursed. The correct broader meaning of the term is applied to someone "set apart, banished and to be considered beyond the judgement and help of the community." Unfortunately within the English language one does not find such a term. To use the term curse alone suggests dark powers and magical arts. Cursing or putting hexes on people in both the Judeo/Christian understanding is incompatible, forbidden paganistic and foreign.

i had to go look at color this afternoon. i work for a magazine, part of my job is to approve a couple dozen images so that they are press ready and also, don't look crappy. our vendor has a deaf gentleman working for them and my usual manufacturing guy was out today. usually he signs my changes to him. today, in an attempt to make my self as lip readable as possible (i mumble alot and that makes for poor lip reading) i found myself speaking very loudly to him. does that make me a bad person?

also some guy i work with was walking out of work with a rucksack on. it made me think of the stuff in london. i can't believe that kids.....KIDS perpetrated some of those bombings. those kids weren't even old enough to drink for god's sake, not that they would, being muslim and all but my god! it reminds me of a AP story i read a year or so ago when the Israeli defense force had to hold a 14 year old retarded kid strapped with c4 at gunpoint. it's disgusting.

—il bastard

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Names...and Killing

I found out today that there is a Timothy J Walsh living within two miles of me here in Purgatory. I don't know him, nor do I care to meet him. In fact, I may have to snuff him if I ever have the displeasure of making his aquaintance. Ain't nobody allowed to walk the streets with my name! Next thing you know I'll be wrapped up in an alternate reality the likes of "The Big Lebowski," where some nihilist pisses on my rug, or I'll start looking like Harvey Pekar or worse--feeling like Harvey Pekar.
There is a gentleman with the same name as Pop Dukes within six blocks of the QV Mo Headquarters. They do not share the same middle initial but share the same taste in naming their brood. That George Walsh named his son James, the same name as The Bastard (aka El Capitan Del Bastards). I don't think they have same middle initial either, so no big deal.
Point is this, if you happen to open up a newspaper someday and read that a man named Timothy J Walsh was murdered in Cape Coral, Fl., don't be alarmed, I'll still be treading heavily on this rock. However, I'll probably be on the run, because I'm the one who done killed that faux-motherfucker.

the mothergrabber

...on despots

robbo sent this little nugget my way this morning from the ny times op-ed page. now i am by no stretch a fan of the times but this little nugget of op-ed (written by an african) reflects an opinion that seems to get drowned out by sympathetic rock stars who say that wealthy developed nations don't donate enough cash to said nation's plight. read on then i will continue:

————————————————————————————————————————

All Rock, No Action
JEAN-CLAUDE SHANDA TONME
Yaoundé, Cameroon


LIVE 8, that extraordinary media event that some people of good intentions in the West just orchestrated, would have left us Africans indifferent if we hadn't realized that it was an insult both to us and to common sense.

We have nothing against those who this month, in a stadium, a street, a park, in Berlin, London, Moscow, Philadelphia, gathered crowds and played guitar and talked about global poverty and aid for Africa. But we are troubled to think that they are so misguided about what Africa's real problem is, and dismayed by their willingness to propose solutions on our behalf.

We Africans know what the problem is, and no one else should speak in our name. Africa has men of letters and science, great thinkers and stifled geniuses who at the risk of torture rise up to declare the truth and demand liberty.

Don't insult Africa, this continent so rich yet so badly led. Instead, insult its leaders, who have ruined everything. Our anger is all the greater because despite all the presidents for life, despite all the evidence of genocide, we didn't hear anyone at Live 8 raise a cry for democracy in Africa.

Don't the organizers of the concerts realize that Africa lives under the oppression of rulers like Yoweri Museveni (who just eliminated term limits in Uganda so he can be president indefinitely) and Omar Bongo (who has become immensely rich in his three decades of running Gabon)? Don't they know what is happening in Cameroon, Chad, Togo and the Central African Republic? Don't they understand that fighting poverty is fruitless if dictatorships remain in place?

Even more puzzling is why Youssou N'Dour and other Africans participated in this charade. Like us, they can't help but know that Africa's real problem is the lack of freedom of expression, the usurpation of power, the brutal oppression.

Neither debt relief nor huge amounts of food aid nor an invasion of experts will change anything. Those will merely prop up the continent's dictators. It's up to each nation to liberate itself and to help itself. When there is a problem in the United States, in Britain, in France, the citizens vote to change their leaders. And those times when it wasn't possible to freely vote to change those leaders, the people revolted.

In Africa, our leaders have led us into misery, and we need to rid ourselves of these cancers. We would have preferred for the musicians in Philadelphia and London to have marched and sung for political revolution. Instead, they mourned a corpse while forgetting to denounce the murderer.

What is at issue is an Africa where dictators kill, steal and usurp power yet are treated like heroes at meetings of the African Union. What is at issue is rulers like François Bozizé, the coup leader running the Central Africa Republic, and Faure Gnassingbé, who just succeeded his father as president of Togo, free to trample universal suffrage and muzzle their people with no danger that they'll lose their seats at the United Nations. Who here wants a concert against poverty when an African is born, lives and dies without ever being able to vote freely?

But the truth is that it was not for us, for Africa, that the musicians at Live 8 were singing; it was to amuse the crowds and to clear their own consciences, and whether they realized it or not, to reinforce dictatorships. They still believe us to be like children that they must save, as if we don't realize ourselves what the source of our problems is.

Jean-Claude Shanda Tonme is a consultant on international law and a columnist for Le Messager, a Cameroonian daily, where a version of this article first appeared. This article was translated by The Times from the French.
————————————————————————————————————————
now i first started reading up on africa on and off when i was reading about robert mugabe evicting long time land owners (actually raping and murdering), under the pretense of giving this land that was in the hands of oppressive bastards who didn't have the zimbabwean peoples best interest in mind. instead of giving the land to "the people", he gave it to his cronies who were loyal to him who knew alot about killing folks but not alot about farming and now, zimbabwe is starving. mugabe blames it on the west.

i followed up a year late in an article i read in the UK Spectator from a man from south africa attending a UN energy conference (i really wish i had the link because it was a good piece). greenpeace was protesting the opening of this nuclear power plant outside of jo-burg. this power plant was designed to be the cleanest running, most energy efficient nuclear power plant ever made (i'm that's what they say about all the nuclear power plants). meanwhile the impoverished denizens of shanty towns in jo-burg live in corrogated metal boxes with poor ventilation with nothing but parafin candles for light and the parafin is fumes are slowly killing them! anyway the author (and myself) found it outrageous that a big organization like greenpeace comes rolling in to tell these poor folks what to do when they have the option to go back to their western lives at any point and live in decent housing with decent electrical power that comes from where, they do not know (did you know france runs something like 75% of it's power of of nuclear reactors).

but i digress, my point is, no amount of money is going to fix africa's problems if the money is being pocketed by despots. you can't regulate the flow of that money once it arrives in said nation because the despotic government pockets it. you can't just send food. we saw after the first live aid that the food sent to ethiopia was pocketed by the government and distributed to the govt's buddies. sound very mugabe-esque? you can't just send condoms and AIDS pamphlets. tribal leaders don't trust anything that the west says and they believe more in their own home made mythology about having sex with a virgin stops AIDS. hell i even read that tribal peoples are getting ebola because they refuse to cease their own burial rituals. ebola is at it's most contageous when the victim is dead!

ahhhh, now my head hurts and i need more coffee. long story short, less despots=less suffering in africa and less dim witted guilty feeling, rubber wristband wearing rockstars to miseducate young people about geo politcal matters....well you know.

—the bastard

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

So, what would Jesus Do?

The "chewkarist" got me thinking about an idea I have been kicking around my head to fend off some of those ultra radical Christians who think they're the first to hear about Jesus.
I'm sure you seen the phrase "What would Jesus do?" on a bumper sticker or other type of flyer or what not, well, after a long discussion with Vitamin J (Jesus and I go way back, we used to be in the same break dance crew, "JC and Funky Fresh Quartet"), I have compiled a list.

Jesus would used his turn signal.
Jesus would allow you a choice.
Jesus would take your gun from your cold dead hands.
Jesus would celebrate Chanakah.
Jesus would ban country music.
Jesus would mind his own business.
Jesus would let you keep your money.
Jesus would listen to good hip-hop, not that trash that's on the radio these days.
Jesus would fight his own battles.
Jesus would believe in himself.
Jesus would kick your ass for even thinking you know what Jesus would do.
It's a funny thing about all those born again-false prophets, apparently they have found Jesus, funny because it seems the Catholics knew where he was from the get.

el mofo

the holy chewkarist


i have to give this one to my coworker rob for coming up with this term. but, we were coming back to the office and these kids were giving away free chewing gum with a flyer. upon reading the flyer, we realized we had been had by the manhattan christian church, or perhaps jesus was telling us that we had bad breath. but the rob is agnostic so a yet to be proven divine power might be telling us our breath stank. then he noticed that he had doublemint gum. could it be that both god AND the devil were trying to tell him he had bad breath. i had winter fresh so i KNOW only god was telling me i had bad breath. if i got big red...well...then...you get the picture. anyway, on the elevator ride up (to the office, not heaven mind you) i remarked how i could now potentially meet my savior with fresh breath and being a catholic (most agnostics i know used to be catholic, i guess its all the boys or maybe the crazy hats) my coworker refers to the gum as the chewkarist. i just had to give him props for it.

—the bastard

Monday, July 11, 2005

mo rocca...mo problems

so the nice lady and i had been knocking it around about what to do about the boy's desire for a new pet, or rather his desire for his deceased fish charlie to come back to life and visit us from fish heaven (but that's another story). anyway, the lady asked the boy what he wanted for a new pet and the choices given were reptile or mammal. he pretty much said, "i'll take the lizard, thanks you". then they are off to the pet shop to find a lackluster assortment of lizards. the nice lad behind the counter said that we should go to the ny reptile expo for better lizards, so we did. there we saw more lizards than you can shake a snake wackin stick at. and oddly enough...mo rocca



apparently mo, hosts a show for animal planet and he was doing a segment at the show. he seemed really good with kids. i even got this little siting in at gawker stalker. after talking to a bunch of very knowledgeable breeders and wading through a shitload of goth kids (what is it with reptiles and goth kids?), we purchased a blue tongued skink which we have not named yet but we did feed it the lowe's dog zoe



and there you have it. mmmmmmmmmmmm dogalicious

—the bastard

Sunday, July 10, 2005

The Life Aquatic with Guinness

I just finished watching "The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou" for the third time, maybe the fourth I can't remember.

To not name Wes Anderson the greatest writer/director of our time is to say the sun doesn't rise in the east. Well, that's enough Guinness for me, I'm going to sleep. Guinness will give you strength, however, drink it enough, and it will give you the sweet sleep of the ancients.

The Mofo

...the bastard went over the mountain...



the bastard went over the mountain
the bastard went over the mountain
the bastard went over the mountaaaaaain

and what do you think he saw

he saw another mountain
he saw another mountain
he saw another mountaaaaaain

and what do you think he did

well enough of this tedium. as i was saying before, i went to the berkshires to visit the nice lady's aunt and uncle. well no visit to the berkshires is complete without a trip to the lee outlets, er, i mean mount greylock.



greylock is the tallest peak, er, hill in massachusetts. i don't know how many countys you can see from the top but it looks like the fall would suck. anyway, when we got to the top we found that there were a bunch of chuckleheads hangliding and paragliding off of the top which was pretty sweet. but quite like a lot of things in the berkshires that get spoiled by too many people in the way, there were too many people in the way, causing folks to get hit with paragliding silk at one point. i don't have that one but i do have this guy taking off with a bunch of tourists in the way.



now i know what you're saying, you're up there touristing yourself you bastard, who are you to judge?" and you would be right but i wasn't in the way, so back the hell off! anyway, lots of folks managed to take off sans fanny packers and some of these guys got some sweet air as illustrated mmmmmm-here



here is more of the tower that is on the tallest part of the hill, er, peak



oh yes and the nice lady and the boy. and ummmmm fade to black



—the bastard

Friday, July 08, 2005

...on bastards and childhood


i just came back from picking up the boy from my rents house. it rained like hell today (no where near what the mofo will endure this weekend, TAKE PICTURES SHITEYES) so my mom dug out all of our old toys. hey MO! the micronauts are still held together but the gi joes are all severed in half from dried out rubber over time. either way, i was surprised at how much of my childhood is in boxes at home and how much toy trivia i remember. i even remember the toys i used to covet and play with when the other 2 weren't around. clearly i am remembering too much and should prescribe more gin and tonic for it.

—the bastard

A Brief History

Let me preface my first words by stating that I'm more akin to a motherfucker than a bastard.

Now then, the Bastard (a.k.a. King Kong Bastard--Bastard!) and I are brothers. History reveals that he has smacked me in the nose with an aluminum baseball bat (which I believe the folks still have at the QV Mo Headquarters), dropped me on my face (I have the 27 year-old scar to prove it)and generally tortured me with his presence over the 20 some odd years we share a room with one another. That being said I hold no ill will, after all, as much as he was a bastard, I was a motherfucker to live with.

I currently live in Florida, land of the q-tips, voter fraud (yes I said it), the gun-toting-brain-dead-lazy-ass-crackers, and voter fraud (damn right I said it again). I swear there is a sign upon entering that reads, "leave your integrity and work ethic up north."

I liken the "Sunshine State" to purgatory, no one knows how they ended up here and no one has any idea when they are leaving. Florida is also the home of the hurricane, which leads me to my point. As I made my way back to my dwelling I passed the Mobil. I noticed it was packed to the gills with cars waiting to fill their tanks with gas. It reminded me of last hurricane season when the same station went days without gas after the multiple hurricanes that passed throughout the state. In that aftermath, many Floridians complained that there was no fuel, and if there was they had to wait on a line much like one you would see at a D.M.V. It got me thinking. If a hurricane, much like Dennis, packing 140 mile-per-hour winds is barrelling its way to your town, why would you waste your Friday evening waiting in line at a Mobil with a terrible service staff, (almost as bad as the staff at the "unfriendly Mobil" on Old Country Rd. in Carle Place, NY), when you could be grabbing some beer and chilling out for the next 48 hours. I mean, where the hell are you going during a category 4 hurricane that you need gas. Taking a road trip?-I don't think so fucker. You're sittng at home obsessing over whether or not you fully stocked up you hurricane kit and waiting out a storm that probably won't make landfall until the poor smucks in Alabama are waiting in line at their Mobil. Fucking leroys.

If you are wondering what I mean by "Leroy", I'll put it simply. There are two types of people in this world; "the Leroys" and "the Swamis." The Leroys do it with a dance, "the Swamis" do it with a look. I'll get into a further explanation at another time, right now you'll have to excuse me-I have to go build an ark.

the mofo

Thursday, July 07, 2005

...on barbarians


i was going to continue going on about my weekend this morning and perhaps gibson's pattern recognition which i just finished but i need to speak on something else. on london. i could go on about how a friend of mine who spent a year teaching in london one time told me that one of the it kind of miffs the british that they are inundated with news from our side of the pond while we barely cover the rest of the world's news (at least this pissed off her roommate lindon) and it is kind of sad that the one time i see blair's mug on tv is when something in a city i remember loving very much blows up.

but i digress, these bastards have to be stopped. i find it appalling that this had to happen again and i am worried that the spin will be the same bullshit spin that happened in madrid, "the bastards blew up trains because spain (or britain in this case) helped us and it has nothing to do with the fact that the ideology these chuckleheads subscribe to says that everyone that doesn't believe as they do should be converted or killed". now here's the part where the paranoid part of me comes in and this morning i don't think he's so paranoid as i rode the train and scanned the subway car everytime we stopped for suspicious characters. understand this, these folks want us dead. all of us. watch your back. now get back to work, shiteyes.

—the bastard

Sunday, July 03, 2005

i've got the fire!!



well, it IS almost 4th of july and we DO have leftover ordinance from one of the nice ladies many roadtrips in which she brought back fire ( not quite unlike prometheus). so we got together with uncle bobby who has much experience in the field and lit it up. here's the boy settin it off

Saturday, July 02, 2005

on bastards and roadtrips

The road is f**kin' hard,
The road is f**kin' tough-ah,
There's no question that-eh
It is rough, rough stuff.
the D



well we rolled out at 4 in the morning, the nice lady, her mother and the boy. i don't think i am cut out for the 4 in the morning drive, or maybe i am not cut out for songs from the animaniacs at 4 in the morning. either way, i had another one of my "stellar" mornings as a result but it paid off when we arrived at j -n- d's place in the berkshires



more to come

—the bastard

Friday, July 01, 2005

...it is SO the meds

holy crap. i just woke up from a nap with a metallic taste in my mouth from a dream in which my wife and child and about 25 other strangers were living with one of my art history professors. he was cooking and he almost stuck me with a knife so i challenged him to a knife fight in the kitchen. these are the best/worst antibiotics i have ever taken!

—the bastard

bad—bastard—maru


bad batz maru believes in the virtues of being a bastard.

firefox is now my new favorite browser


no joke, i tried posting in safari and when i put a pic up, BOOM, she goes down like old soviet union. this is in the midtown tunnel. the nice lady gave me a digital camera for father's day so i went off like a tourist. funny discovery is that when you shut off the flash, it automatically keeps the shutter open so i get nutty effects like this in the midtown tunnel. woo hoo!